


in the light of day

by qunsio



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: F/M, PWP, Shameless Smut, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 16:11:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15489678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qunsio/pseuds/qunsio
Summary: Wolfgang thinks briefly about kissing her skin at each point of exposure: her shoulder, her fingers, her shins, the tops of her feet. He wonders if this is what love is for everyone -- seeing a shoulder and an arm and a foot and bubbling over with affection.





	in the light of day

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting in my gdocs literally since december 2017. i wrote it on a plane (sorry to whoever was in seat 17B) and then meant to add another scene to it when i landed so it wouldn't be JUST sex, but i never finished it. i figured someone out there would still want to read it, so here's to you, someone.

The curve of Kala’s bare shoulder peeks out from between the sheets, her warm, slender arm slung around a throw pillow, her face hidden beneath the mass of her hair. Pale morning light warms the grey air in the room, more still when Wolfgang shoves the blinds open. The mornings have been coming faster and hotter as they edge into summer, but still Kala sleeps until the room is baked in afternoon heat. She bunches the comforter up beneath her armpit, leaves her slim calves peeking out of the bottom. 

Wolfgang thinks briefly about kissing her skin at each point of exposure: her shoulder, her fingers, her shins, the tops of her feet. He wonders if this is what love is for everyone -- seeing a shoulder and an arm and a foot and bubbling over with affection.

She’s impossible to wake up, a point of strife between them often enough, but this morning they have no appointments or obligations, just a quiet stretch of morning to do with as they please, so when Wolfgang returns from a brisk shower to find her still huddled up in bed, he only takes in the strange beauty of her shoulder, her arm and foot, and slides back under the blanket.

“Mmm,” Kala groans, as Wolfgang settles his arm around her narrow waist. “No, wet,” she complains. Her hand pushes at his thigh where it tucks up behind her knee.

“Yes,” Wolfgang agrees, coming close enough that the drops of water on his chest transfer to the back of to her thin camisole. 

“ _ Wet _ ,” she whines, kicking a sharp heel into his shin.

“Yes, yes,” he mumbles, and presses his lips between her shoulder blades. 

Kala sighs, “A little more.”

Wolfgang isn’t sure if she means to ask him to let her sleep a little more, or to touch her more, so he stills, his mouth hovering over the slope where her neck and shoulder meet. He smells his laundry detergent on her clothes, and the faint smell of her sweat. 

“Won’t you?” Kala asks blearily. Her hand leaves his thigh to pull her hair away from her neck. 

He smirks against her skin. "Of course." His lips find the back of her neck, where she’s damp with sweat, and he kisses an awkward path up to her ear, skims his hand from her waist to her thigh, feels her warmth through the thin fabric of her shirt, which drags and skips beneath his roving hand. “Good morning, Kala.”

“Yes,” she agrees on a long exhale. “Very good.”

His fingers dip below the elastic band of her sleep shorts and he pauses, hums questioningly into her hair.

“Mmm,” she hums back, “go on.” 

He leaves her underwear in place and he presses his fingers firm and flat against her labia through the cloth. A low moan builds up in her chest.

He grins. “Eager?” 

She nods slowly, her hair dragging and tangling against the pillow. He laughs, presses with one finger. The damp fabric slides easily between her lips, where she’s gone slick and hot. With his chest pressed against the length of her back he can feel her breath stutter.  He sneaks his other arm underneath her, wraps it firmly around her so his palm comes to rest against her rapidly rising chest.

He begins to stroke his finger along her slick inner skin, bringing slow pressure from her vagina to her clit and back, feeling her grow softer and wetter and hotter beneath the cloth.  He thumbs at the waistband. “Should I remove these?”

He pauses while she pants, considers. “I.  _ Mmh _ ,” she breathes. “I-- No, you--” she tries again. He can practically hear her eyebrows draw together in consternation. “Let’s try like this,” she says at last, her voice barely more than a rasp, and her hips roll against him and the fabric catches on his fingers. She shudders at the sensation as he passes over her clit. “Do it like this.”

He hums in agreement, continues to stroke her, each time spending a little more time circling her clit, waiting for her breath ratchet up into deep, stuttering gasps before moving away. Heat pools in his stomach as her moans grow more desperate. Her skin is warm and inviting where his cock brushes against the back of her thighs, but Wolfgang puts it out of mind. Patience. 

She lets out a soft whine when he shifts to let his other hand brush across her breasts, his palm just skimming her cool, silky camisole so that it slides across her nipples. He noses the length of her neck, skims his teeth across her delicate skin, sucks a bruise below her jaw, feels her pulse jump under his lips, tastes her sweat in his mouth. Her legs tangle between Wolfgang’s, feet anchored around his calves, her smooth skin tickling along Wolfgang’s legs as she alternately straightens and bends her legs to relieve the slow-building tension. 

He keeps stroking, all the while, and eventually when he pulls away from her clit, her hand darts out to grasp his forearm. Her blunt nails dig in, just shy of painful. Her mouth drops open, but she doesn’t say anything, just breathes deep, grasps at him like she’ll burst apart. 

“Wolfgang,” she sighs. “ _ Ah _ .” 

Wolfgang licks his lips, keeps stroking her. Slow. Patient. But near the end of Kala’s patience, he knows. This time, when her breathing quickens and her toes curl again, he stays on her clit, circling, circling, circling through the rough fiber of her soaked underwear. “Wolfgang,” she pants again. She turns her head to kiss him at last and only manages to nose ineffectually near his eyes, to catch his cheekbone with her open mouth. He huffs a laugh against the bottom of her jaw. 

“ _ Oh _ ,” she says emphatically. Her fingers scrape thin lines of heat into his arm, and her breasts heave beneath his hand. “ _ Mmm.  _ Say-- Speak to me,” she says.

Wolfgang’s mind goes blank. “You--” he says, taking in the sheen of sweat across her forehead, her eyelashes fanned over her cheek, her slack, open mouth. “You’re beautiful,” he says, his cheeks going hot with embarrassment. He never knows what to say when she asks this of him, but she moans in response, as always, and her chest expands under his palm, and so he continues, lets himself say every stupid cliche thing that come to mind, trying to focus instead on her hot breath against his cheek, the sweat blooming across her back, the slippery skin beneath her underwear. 

She goes taut as she comes, with a shuddering exhale and an impossibly tight grip on his arm. He continues to stroke her, until he feels her hips twitch away, and then he pulls back, just applies a firm pressure to the outside of her lips and waits for her to rock herself out.

She lets out a great sigh, turns her body to face him better. “Well done,” she mumbles against his lips.

“It takes two,” he says, feeling stupid as soon as it’s out of his mouth. But she just laughs, folds up against him.

“Takes two,” she laughs, settling into the pillows. She’ll sleep until late afternoon at least, Wolfgang knows by now. He grows drowsy watching the slow rise and fall of her breath. He presses a kiss to her cheek, and closes his eyes as well.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are much appreciated! also if you spot a typo please msg me on tumblr (also @qunsio).


End file.
